Goodbye My Lover

My steps are heavy as I drag my weary self up the stairs and into my flat. I hide my sniffles behind the appropriate greetings as I genuflect the Yoruba way. The way a properly brought-up Yoruba girl should. Sadly enough, I am not properly brought-up.





See, I have once lived with my boyfriend for one month when he was ill while I lied to my parents at home that I had gotten a job and was staying with a friend to save on transport fare. They were very understanding and supported me with money, food and ceaseless prayers over the phone.

After a while they began to rail at me to come home, they hadn’t seen me in weeks, or was I hiding a pregnancy? They joked humorlessly. I laughed along but refused to go home, my boyfriend was more important, he needed me and my parents had each other so I stayed, washed his clothes, cooked for him, went to the market, followed him to church, cleaned his house and of course, warmed his bed the way a good wife should. After all, we were getting married right?

A 13 month old relationship with him was the longest I had ever dated and I was convinced that we were walking down the aisle immediately I was done with NYSC. That he had also introduced me to his family and friends as “his girl” took me to seventh heaven and left me there.

It was unbelievable therefore when he began to call me even less, ignore my calls and my Whatsapp messages since he didn’t have BBM. I refused to panic and decided to plead since we had been quarrelling really often recently. He made up excuses about being too busy to hangout or return my calls and though I offered to come over and spend the weekend with him, he was vague and promised to let me know what he thought. That had never happened before!

Fast forward 3 months later and I have moved back home, day after day of nothing to do while I waited by the phone for his calls and irregular messages on Whatsapp. We fight daily now and dreamless sleep assisted by mood music was my only companion. We finally broke up over this same Whatsapp and he couldn’t even be bothered to call me back. My life seems to have no purpose and I just pull reluctantly through each day without interest in what the next day has to offer. Now, I’m back from a party where several couples were kissing and loving up as if deliberately taking a jab at my single status. I just want to go to my room and listen to James Blunt’s “Goodbye My Lover”. My mother is asking how the party went but I don’t care. I’ve greeted you. Leave me alone, I want to listen to my song. Is that too much to ask for? Just leave me alone!

Finally! Blissful solace! I’m just about to slot in my headphones when my phone rings. His number is right there on my phone for the first time in 3 months. I’m tempted to ignore it but I’m not strong enough so I pick it and assume that airy voice I use when I’m trying to pretend that I have no care in the world. “Hello? Fisayo, come over to the house, we need to talk. Don’t argue with me Fisayo. It’s urgent and you might regret it if you don’t. Good night, I’ll call you tomorrow morning.” He hangs up. I never said anything. He assumed I would come and while I resented him for that, I was already thinking of what to wear that would best show off my curves so he could realize what he had thrown away.

James Blunt is forgotten as I head to bed and fall asleep with a smile on my lips. I can’t wait for tomorrow to come. When it does, I greet the day very cheerfully. Hello Sunday morning! I dress up as pretty as possible and leave home with a hopeful smile on my lips. My heart stops when I see him. Oh my baby! He looks just the same, handsome as ever. I have missed him so! I sit on the edge of the bed and cast my eyes down to the floor. That spot I had spilled pink nail polish on while trying to hurriedly do a pedicure for an event we were attending in the evening. He had been so livid that we would be late but softened up after seeing how pretty I looked.

I snap back to the present as he lifts my face, and kisses me deep on the mouth. I want to pull away, punch him with all the anger I feel inside but he knows me and still knows my weak points. I vaguely realize that I am naked and ten minutes later it is over. He tucks me close to him as he whispers sweet nothings and profound apologies designed to wipe away the hurt of the past months.

Just as I’m falling asleep, I feel him pulling away and I murmur weakly, “don’t leave me”

“I won’t baby, not anymore, I’ll be right back. Shh and go to sleep now alright? I’ll be back in a minute.” He soothes.

He picks his phone from the table on his way out and switches it on as he punches in a number previously committed to memory. "Hi Anita", he says as the voice on the other end rushes out in relief.

“Oh baby, where have you been? I’ve been trying your line for ages!” she gushes.

“Look Nita, the past three months was fun but it’s over, I’m going back to Fisayo.”

 “What?! But you said you didn’t love her anymore! What changed! Did she threaten you with something? Is she pregnant?”

 No Nita, she isn’t pregnant neither did she threaten me. And you are right, I don’t love her anymore but she loves me completely. She would die without me. You are wonderful Anita and I will always love you but Fisayo needs me. You are stronger than she is and you can handle it but she can’t. I need to protect her because she would fall apart without me. It’s over Nita, Don’t call me anymore.”

He switches off the phone and makes his way back to the room, Fisayo is fast asleep, a string of saliva crawling slowly out of her mouth and on to the pillow. It is one of those imperfections she tries to hide but he doesn’t mind because it makes her seem more human. He adjusts the blankets as he joins her in bed, wiping away the drool and the tears that seep out of overused tear ducts and directly from a heart previously filled with heartbreak and pain.